The Werewolf of Hogmeade
by Barlexa
Summary: For many, life is the most wonderful thing in the world. Others, miserable, are condemned to live eternally in the shadows, observing everyone else’s happiness without being able to touch it. Remus is one of these people ...


**The Werewolf of Hogsmeade  
Written by Xana**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter characters and plot belong to J.K. Rowling, writer extraordinaire. I'm not taking any profit out of it, I only write for the great pleasure it gives me.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for all the five books, especially Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Depressing themes. Angst, future fic.

**Rating:** PG15 due to references of death and suicide.

**Pairing: **None.

**Summary:** For many, life is the most wonderful thing in the world. While others, miserable, are condemned to live eternally in the shadows, observing everyone else's happiness without being able to touch it. Remus is one of these people, a victim of a destiny that, no matter how much he tries, cannot be changed.

**Feedback:** Much appreciated. Even if you don't like it, I'll still want to hear from you.  
**  
Notes:** This started as a translation of a fic I had written in Portuguese. I've made many changes to the text, though. The plot is the same, but has a mind of its own and has evolved against my will.

**Betas:** teaandsnark and capierson for the first look over (thank you for making me confident enough to post) and ziasudra and netweightsofs for the final beta. You girls were amazing and I love you to bits. - Any mistakes still left are mine, so please don't steal them. Just point tem out, I'll be very grateful.

**Dedication:** To everyone who helped me with the original version, especially netweightsofs, who guided me through the darkness.

_

* * *

Werewolf  
__(From Old English__ "werewolf"__ wer__, «man» __wulf__, «wolf»)_

_A person who sometimes changes into a wolf, especially at the time of the full moon; a monster able to change appearance from human to wolf_

* * *

It is once said that the most difficult thing about life is living it — dealing with everything that makes us human, everything characteristic of our species. Everything we go through and feel inevitably becomes part of us — of our attitudes and our outlook on life.

To live is to love and to suffer — to smile and to cry. To be part of a family or group. To live is to accept the bad along with the good. To grow up and hope for a future, to marry and have children. To live is to feel our hearts shatter into a thousand tiny pieces when we lose a loved one. It's to be forced to go on, regardless of the circumstance. To live is to accept that death is a permanent part of life, and that sooner or later, we all pass on.

Life is all the perfect moments that could be frozen in time and kept in a safe for they are more precious than gold. Such moments can only be lived once, as time does not turn back.

Remus knows very well what it means to live. He does it everyday. He perfectly understands everything that is life, because he has already gone through it all, sometimes more than once. Living hurts. Everyday the knife in his heart jabs a little bit deeper, bruising his flesh, burying itself further. Living is hard. Every minute that goes by is full of anguish and suffering that know no bounds.

A single desire takes over Remus' conscience whenever he thinks about it: to close his eyes and rest forever, so that he can find the peace that he has sought after for so long. His soul is tired, his body barely upright. Death seems inevitable, yet it won't come as soon as he wishes it to.

Remus lives in Hogsmeade, hidden in the shadows, away from everything and everyone. The town's streets are deserted; everything seems to have been abandoned suddenly, evacuated in a hurry. Ruined houses, gigantic holes that randomly tore up the ground, dust, mud…. There are traces everywhere of a past lost forever, of a lonely and painful present, and of a future with no hope.

There isn't the slightest sign of human life. Remus is the only one left. At the time of the Hogsmeade evacuation, he didn't feel strong enough to leave. He could not separate himself from a place where he once experienced happiness, from a place which he still loves in spite of everything that happened.

Hogsmeade. The dim and still wizarding village. Remus' hiding place. The place from which the werewolf draws his strength. He misses the times when it was as lively as any muggle city, when its nights were illuminated with candles of all colours, when children played in the streets — shouting, laughing and blaming each other for their mischief — and when parents discussed Quidditch and debated politics. It used to smell like fresh-baked bread. It was a place of hooting, mail-delivering owls. Hogsmeade was once full of life.

Now there is only silence. Occasionally, Remus hears the rustling of wind-shaken branches, the terror that hides behind every corner, threatening to attack at any moment. Amid the quiet, he can hear the cheerful voices of a distant past — a past which will never be repeated — and he can swear one of them sounds just like Sirius. Sirius' laughter is always unmistakable.

Walking through the ruins, Remus doesn't take notice of anything around him. He closes his eyes for a few seconds and recalls the time when he was a Hogwarts student. That was long before the war against Voldemort devastated Hogsmeade.

It hurts to look around him now. He feels something burning inside his wrecked body whenever he draws near to where Honeydukes and Zonkos used to stand, the loss of the stores which were so dear to him as a child a physical pain. He can't bear to recall that day at The Three Broomsticks, when powerful spells blasted down the building's main wall, sending flying debris towards dozens of Hogwarts students, injuring a few and killing many.

And that was only the beginning. Through the course of the fight, the entire village would be devastated beyond repair. Streets, houses, stores, people…. everything killed and destroyed in mere seconds.

Now Remus is alone, condemned to what he fears most. Loneliness. He has been cursed with a life of solitude and pain, in which everything — especially memories — hurts. Hogsmeade belongs to him now, but that hurts him a lot more than any torture ever could. Alone, he cannot escape the past, cannot stop feeling. Alone, he wanders through the whole village, as he always does this time of the year.

October 31, Halloween.

The day when, ironically, both wars against Voldemort had ended. Halloween 1981 marked the victory of the light and brought thirteen years of peace to the world. Harry, Lily and James Potter's one year old son, vanquished the most powerful wizard of all times, and was heralded a hero by all the wizarding world. Remus mainly remembers that his parents never lived to see him grow.

On Halloween 1997, however, the world had no such luck. Voldemort returned with never-before-seen vengeance and did everything to achieve his ends. Harry was only seventeen, so young and still full of life, in spite of all the tragedies in his life. He had so much to offer, a whole world to see, but it was not to happen. The last place he saw was the one Remus holds so dearly, this wizarding village.

And that was the end.

Within hours, the Order of the Phoenix was purged. Most did not survive the confrontation.

Remus saw them fall — one after another, almost in slow motion — and he could not do anything to stop it. First Hagrid, who was not used to advanced magic; then Ron, who, in an act of enormous bravery, jumped in front of a curse meant for his best friend.

Everywhere, bodies fell to the ground, curses shot from both sides, faces contracted in suffering. It was a collective fight in which everyone gave their best, wrapped up in a hope that believed good can conquer anything.

But there's only so much a human can take. The smallest of mistakes is enough to end a life. Bodies kept falling, wands started to waver. Tonks, Moddy, Avery Nott, Dedalus Diggle, Crabbe, Flitwick, Draco Malfoy, Arthur Weasley, Shacklebolt, Snape…. A sea of bodies from both sides scattered throughout the battleground. The Death Eaters were slowly winning.

The population of Hogsmeade tried to escape: running through the wreckage, trying to protect their children and familiars. Dumbledore commanded the troops with unwavering firmness. He knew it was impossible to avoid a confrontation, which seemed to be written in the stars. The culmination of the battle drew near. Harry, the boy of the prophecy, would face his parents' murderer to seal his fatal destiny.

When the intense green light hit Harry in the chest, the entire town's ground shook. Everyone knew instantly that the war had ended. The Boy-Who-Lived had died, and no one was left to stop Voldemort.

The battle at Hogwarts lasted only a few minutes, and it ended in carnage. Dumbledore, along with teachers and students more attached to the school, died trying to protect Hogwarts.

But for Remus, nothing mattered anymore. Harry was dead. Harry — the reason why Remus lived on after Sirius died — had left behind a life of constant fighting to join his parents and godfather. Had left him.

There was nothing to live for anymore.

Harry, whom he loved like a son, had finally passed on. Holding on to the boy's lifeless body with all his strength, the werewolf couldn't hold back the howl of pain that escaped from his constricted throat.

After that, his memories become a blur. He remembers being dragged to the Shrieking Shack, recalls sensing the panic and general confusion that settled.

The reign of Voldemort had begun.

During the following months, Death Eaters persecuted anyone who dared to oppose the Dark Lord, dictating and enforcing the recently written laws, establishing their own justice. They were everywhere, their torturing and killing unavoidable, inescapable. Britain's wizarding world burned, and the flames of defeat were far from extinguished.

Time went by.

Now, years later, Remus has the luxury of being alone. Hogsmeade is abandoned to its fate; Hogwarts no longer exists. The Dark Lord is a cruel leader, and everyone lives in suffering under his constant torture. Out of fear for their lives and the lives of their loved ones, people are forced to submit to the imposed laws.

Lucius Malfoy and his cronies search Hogsmeade once a month just to make sure that the place is still deserted. During the monthly raids, Remus hides in the old passageway that formerly connected Honeydukes to Hogwarts. It is merely an underground tunnel now. If he is found, he will be tortured incessantly. He will be made an example of what happens to those who dare to defy the Dark Lord. His suffering will know no boundaries.

Remus doesn't fear. He isn't afraid because he is alone, and nothing can hurt him anymore. There's nothing left on earth for him: only a miserable life, the curse of having to go on in a world in which he no longer belongs.

He already lost everything that he ever had.

If only he were braver, he would have finished everything a long time ago. But courage is one of the things that he left behind, along with the joy of being alive. Joy used to define his personality — unwavering joy despite all the hindrances life always put in his way.

Those times are long gone, however, and nothing seems to remain of that little boy who used to explore the Forbidden Forest with his three _animagi_ friends during full moons. That boy with sandy hair and honey eyes who grew up to be a man constantly battered by life — that Remus never seemed to lose hope for a better world. That Remus lived in the good old times, when he always had a smile on his face, no matter what, and fought tooth and nail for an ideal.

That man no longer exists. He disappeared fifteen years ago, the night when Darkness won its final battle against Light. A night of full moon, during which he cradled Harry's body against his own in the few moments he had before changing, and said goodbye.

Remus sighs. It is not worthwhile to think about what cannot be changed. It's not sensible to get lost in dreams and false hopes when confronted with cruel reality. He, above all others, knows this very well.

The passageway that leads to the Shrieking Shack has remained the same, year after year after year. Walking along that familiar path Remus has to stop, inhale deeply and exhale slowly, to regain a measure of control over his emotions. He avoids leaving the shack at all costs, but this annual walk has become a ritual.

When he re-enters the house which has been his for so long, the sun is still high in the sky. The Shrieking Shack makes him remember the Marauders. They had great fun here, using the place to plot many of their pranks at the expense of the rumours which circulated around the village about the house being haunted.

It's ironic, he notes bitterly. He lives in a place specifically built for sheltering him during his transformations, but he now spends those same nights outside, wandering in the streets and around the debris. During all other days and nights, he imprisons himself within these four walls, in a house unfit for human lodging but which serves his purposes just fine. Remus has never been one for much luxury. The ceiling above his head means more to him than anything at this moment.

He wonders, sometimes, about his stay in a place that makes him suffer so much. Of all the places in which he could have taken refuge, of all the hiding places he could have chosen, he has ended up precisely in the one place that reminds him of so many things. It is a hard place for Remus. He recalls so much about the man he used to be.

Everywhere he turns, every corner he faces, there are always memories of a time when he was relatively happy and untroubled. A time when he saw all his dreams come true and rose up high in the sky, only to fall to the bottom of the deepest hell.

Nevertheless, he accepts his past with a resignation that comes with age, and the certainty that his time has come and gone. He won't have to wait much longer.

Deep down, Remus believes in the need to balance the scale. He knows that what goes around comes around, that life is nothing but a great mathematical formula which tries to even out the good and bad moments. But how can that be true, when the world is full of suffering of the innocent, struggling in vain against destiny? The reality is, the innocent often pays for the sins of the criminals, and justice rarely is served.

Remus doesn't believe in any Superior Being anymore. He stopped a long time ago. When he was a child, he believed with all his strength in Almighty God, Creator of Heaven and Earth — of things seen and unseen. But he soon began to doubt the power of his Lord, a deity who did nothing to stop a six-year-old boy from being bitten by a werewolf. A God who tested him constantly, who made him go through numerous trials, who did not stop his pain no matter how much he begged for relief. But still he believed, praying, honouring his elders, keeping peace between his best friends. Still he looked toward the Father of the human race with hope, not wavering, always believing, always faithful. Such a good muggleborn.

Now he understands the uselessness of believing in someone unreachable and intangible, someone who either does not exist or does not care.

Now, Remus believes in death, constant in its inconstancy. It is his only source of hope and happiness — to know that, sooner or later, everything will end, that he won't be stuck in this life forever.

He also believes in the moon, in constant mutation, which once brought him so much pain and anguish. Now, the moon frees him from himself once a month.

Remus is alone in the region. This wizarding village belongs to him now; he is the only one here. Remus is the werewolf of Hogsmeade, running among its ruins during the nights of full moon.

In those nights, he feels carefree and alive. He can finally let go of the memories and be empty for a few hours. The pain of the transformation hasn't bothered him since the end of the war, as there's only so much he can take before his nerves shut down. His body has long gotten used to the feeling of bones growing and mending at different angles, of the beast taking over his soul. It is hopeless to fight it — the long waited release — particularly without the Wolfsbane Potion. There isn't anyone capable of making that potion anymore.

On nights like tonight, when the full moon shines in the dark sky, the wolf within completely takes over everything that makes Remus human. It turns him violent, ruthless. There is no place for the anguish that consumes his conscience everyday, nor for the solitude that is already an essential part of his being. On these nights, he is just a wolf, hungry and exhilarated to be alive.

What was once his biggest curse is now his greatest pleasure. Opening the half-collapsed door that opens to the street, Remus feels the familiar pain rising from his back and smiles slightly.

The moon, his sole companion, is more beautiful than ever. When he is fully transformed, when the four paws touch the ground, he feels something he doesn't feel during the other days of the month. _Free_. Flicking his tail, he shoots out of the house without looking back.

From this moment until sunrise, he stops being Remus Lupin, ex-Marauder and former teacher of Defence Against Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and surrenders his body and mind to the wolf. He gives up his conscience and disappears inside himself. No longer thinking. No longer feeling. No longer suffering.

There is always a time in life when one loses hope, when there is no longer any strength left to keep on fighting. The wizarding world is a cold and dark place, and Voldemort permits no resistance. There's no point in fighting for a world long gone. Remus is just one among thousands of survivors who wish they had died. Few truly live, most only exist.

During the days of full moon, Remus is happy. The world is his, and he can easily overcome any obstacle that crosses his way. He is not guided by reason, only by his animal survival instinct.

When he regains his human form, however, he is haunted by a fierce guilt that burns him from the inside out. He tries to bury it in the recesses of his conscience, to avoid guilt with all his might. But it comes back, each time stronger than before. He can't take it anymore; he doesn't have much strength left.

He knows it's wrong to want so strongly to become a monster, a creature that kills without blinking, ruthless in its actions. He's gradually feeling less and less human, and more and more the beast. He can barely distinguish between right and wrong, past and present. The polarities war permanently, interlaced, in his head, and have lost their meaning.

The only day he is completely lucid is Halloween, when he cries his soul out, giving into despair and loneliness, letting them consume his whole being. Remus weeps for the ones he loved, loves still — the only real family he ever had. And he rages. He rages at them, for leaving him; at Voldemort, destroyer of dreams and families, and at the world, for being harsh and cruel, for taking his family from him.

Raging leaves him empty and drained. The rest of the year is vague, and he can barely put two thoughts together. His days are spent looking at the dirty ceiling, counting the cracks in between his sleep. He drags himself out of bed sometimes, aching hunger threatening to unhinge him. He eats what he needs, taking no pleasure out of such mundane task, and goes back to bed, hiding in his misery.

He dreams. He dreams of a bittersweet past, where four boys run in the woods, laughing and shouting, boys who turn into animals and battle evil together. A boy with startling green eyes flies at high speed to catch a golden snitch, only to turn from it scarce centimetres away to point his wand at a black hole, trying to destroy Darkness with the killing curse. And a woman…a very beautiful woman with hair like fire and the voice of an angel. There's always a big black dog as well, and he would run for miles without getting caught, wagging his tail enthusiastically. The wolf is happy, and looks at his claimed family with pride. The treacherous rat dies a painful death, forever hanging from the top of the Astronomy Tower while the evil snake is banished into the lowest hell.

He hides away in his madness, creating a new reality for himself. If only they could see him now…. He has never been mighty, but he has certainly fallen. There are 3,567 cracks above his head. He finds a new one everyday; he traces its length, fingers its depth. Some might call him a raving lunatic. He is beyond caring about people's opinions, anyway.

He cares about the cycle of the moon, he cares about its changes. He cares about release, about finding an easier way out. For now, he takes what he can, waking up naked once a month on the ground of the Forbidden Forest, aching and bleeding. His skin is a myriad of bruises and scars, his flesh damaged beyond repair. He has a bitter taste in his mouth. He struggles to swallow. He breathes ragged breaths.

It is always difficult to remember where he is, or how to find his way back to Hogsmeade. Sometimes, he is capable of getting up and walking. But more often than not, he has to drag himself home. It doesn't matter. Stronger exhaustion means a longer blessing of unconsciousness. He will think about everything later, during the long wait for the next full moon.

**The End**


End file.
